Saturday, 12 January 2013

BBC Review

Forget Bob Dylan's mauling by the critics and fans for his move into electric rock in the mid sixties; if there’s one man who has suffered more from the ire of his peers it has to be Miles. Hindsight shows us that his move from modal jazz to dirty street funk between 1968 and 1975 was an inspired evolution of a musical genius, but from the release of In A Silent Way onwards Davis was frequently misunderstood and brutally chastised for daring to change. The culmination was On The Corner. A huge part of his fanbase took it as a genuine insult, directed at those who had stuck with him even through the drastic reinvention of Bitches Brew.

Here was an album that seemed to kowtow to the demands of a younger, hipper audience (just check the truly awful cover art for starters), eschewing soloing for the groove, yet even funk rock fans had a hard time getting it. As a result it was his slowest selling album of his entire career at Columbia. Nowadays it’s a different story. We now know that the dark undertow of these relentless jams along with the revolutionary cut and paste approach to their 'construction' from hours of sessions prefigured and in some cases gave birth to nu-jazz, jazz funk, experimental jazz, ambient and even world music.

This, the last deluxe box set to collect outtakes, original un-mixed masters and un-edited takes, is not just a document of the sessions that came to make up On The Corner, it also collects sessions from between '72 and '75 of the work that made up Big Fun and Get Up With It. Here we find the originals of some of Miles' most pivotal work, not least the incredible "He Loved Him Madly" which was once cited by Brian Eno as changing his entire view of music.

Over six cds we get the complete picture of Davis’ last effort to re-contextualise electric instrumentation within modern music. Here musicians checked their egos at the door and were asked to subsume their skills in service to brooding repetition and flurries of colour splashed over skewed vamps. The real heroes of the piece in fact may just be Michael Henderson - on whose staccato, minimalist fender bass riffing every workout hangs - and of course, producer Teo Macero, whose interest in Stockhausen and tape manipulation allowed him to piece together this material in such challenging ways.

Miles himself barely appears on some cuts, his muted trumpet squawking intermittently while a stellar cast whips up a storm. The cuts often feature up to five percussionists demonstrating how Miles wanted to connect with a street vibe that by the early 70s signified not only musical radicalism but also a political stance that connected his muse back to the ghetto. This is above all Black music, devoted to rhythm but steeped in confrontational voodoo. As if to underline the cultural rhetoric he throws into the heavy gumbo the Eastern flavours of sitar and tabla as on "Chieftain" and "Black Satin".

John Mclaughlin’s guitar bites and shimmers in a wah-wah frenzy, as does Pete Cosey’s. Both Dave Liebman's and Sonny Fortune's sax and flute frills add pathos…the list goes on and on, but above all the groove holds sway.

For Miles fanatics, hours could be spent identifying the source materials and players who make up each track. Luckily a fabulously comprehensive set of sleevenotes and annotations by mixer Bob Belden does the job perfectly. There’s also an insight into the process of recording by electric cellist and sessioneer extrordinaire, Paul Buckmaster.

It still sounds fearless and almost wilfully formless, but it’s also still some of the greatest music ever recorded. Without this modern music just wouldn't be the same, it’s as simple as that. For this reason alone this may be the most important box set of all released under Miles' name. Every home should have one.

Thursday, 10 January 2013

In today's encore selection -- total recall, the ability of someone to remember every word they read or hear, has often been lauded as tantamount to a high level of intelligence. The opposite is more often the case. Those with total recall often have difficulty making decisions, and more readily miss understanding the overall point of a book or lecture --because they get enmeshed in an undistinguishable mass of irrelevant details. Forgetting, it turns out, has enormous value for concise understanding and for emotional health:

"Solomon Shereshevsky could recite entire speeches, word for word, after hearing them once. In minutes, he memorized complex math formulas, passages in foreign languages and tables consisting of 50 numbers or nonsense syllables. The traces of these sequences were so durably etched in his brain that he could reproduce them years later, according to Russian psychologist Alexander R. Luria, who wrote about the man he called, simply, 'S' in The Mind of a Mnemonist.

"But the weight of all the memories, piled up and overlapping in his brain, created crippling confusion. S could not fathom the meaning of a story, because the words got in the way. 'No,' [S] would say. 'This is too much. Each word calls up images; they collide with one another, and the result is chaos. I can't make anything out of this.' When S was asked to make decisions, as chair of a union group, he could not parse the situation as a whole, tripped up as he was on irrelevant details. He made a living performing feats of recollection.

"Yet he desperately wanted to forget. In one futile attempt, he wrote down items he wanted purged from his mind and burned the paper. Although S's efforts to rein in his memory were unusually vigilant, we all need -- and often struggle -- to forget. 'Human memory is pretty good,' says cognitive neuroscientist Benjamin J. Levy of Stanford University. 'The problem with our memories is not that nothing comes to mind -- but that irrelevant stuff comes to mind.'

"The act of forgetting crafts and hones data in the brain as if carving a statue from a block of marble. It enables us to make sense of the world by clearing a path to the thoughts that are truly valuable. It also aids emotional recovery. 'You want to forget embarrassing things,' says cognitive neuroscientist Zara Bergstrom of the University of Cambridge. 'Or if you argue with your partner, you want to move on.' In recent years researchers have amassed evidence for our ability to willfully forget. They have sketched out a neural circuit underlying this skill analogous to the one that inhibits impulsive actions.

"The emerging data provide the first scientific support for Sigmund Freud's controversial theory of repression, by which unwanted memories are shoved into the subconscious. The new evidence suggests that the ability to repress is quite useful. Those who cannot do this well tend to let thoughts stick in their mind. They ruminate, which can pave a path to depression. Weak restraints on memory may similarly impede the emotional recovery of trauma victims. Lacking brakes on mental intrusions, individuals with attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) are also more likely to be among the forgetless (to coin a term). In short, memory -- and forgetting -- can shape your personality."

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS

Unless we subscribe to the heresy of Antinomianism, we know that we all need a few rules by which to lead our lives. Human beings are not made for chaos, but for order – of the proper sort. We do not want to be oppressed, yet we know instinctively that anarchy would probably be the worst oppression of all. Moses came down from the mountain with the tablets on which were written The Ten Commandments. In my own, rather more modest, fashion I wish to respond to those correspondents who have asked for some guidance about the proper way in which a gentleman can maintain a decent appearance in a world which can be depressingly indifferent to standards of the sartorial sort. I therefore humbly offer to readers my own version of The Ten Commandments. Most of the Commandments are to do with matters of dress, although a couple relate to aspects of behaviour. One of my heroes - the French writer, Anglophile and conservative, Maurice Druon (1918-2009) - was once denounced as "starched, outdated, reactionary, egotistical, haughty and sinister". If these Commandments prompt as noble a tribute from my many detractors, I shall know that my efforts have not been in vain.

( I ) THOU SHALT WEAR BESPOKE

This is the first and Great Commandment. Whether it is for his suits, his shirts or his shoes, a gentleman’s first priority should be to wear bespoke. By bespoke, I do not mean ‘made to measure’. The mark of true bespoke is that the craftsman – the tailor, the shirt-maker or the shoemaker – makes a pattern which is unique for each of his customers, and that his workmanship, based on that pattern, is of the highest order. There are no short cuts in the world of true bespoke. Bespoke can, therefore, never be cheap. I realize, of course, that the vagaries of life mean that some who would very much like to obey this commandment are prevented from doing so by financial constraints. I would urge them to remember that one bespoke suit (or one pair of bespoke shoes) is worth a whole wardrobe (or boot room) of inferior items.

( II ) THOU SHALT WALK ONLY ON LEATHER

There is something utterly vile about the way in which the footwear of Western men has been defiled by the widespread adoption of the ‘trainer’. I suppose it has brought huge profits to the manufacturers of these nasty items, but it has also done inestimable damage to the character, as well as the appearance, of our sex. Trainers are for training: they are not fit for respectable living. Nor should we countenance those shoes which, at an indifferent glance, look passable – but which have soles made from synthetic material. Men should wear leather shoes with leather soles.

( III ) THOU SHALT WEAR A COLLAR AND TIE

To dress without effort is to dress without respect for one’s fellow man. To wear a collar with a tie means that decisions have been made and time has been spent in making one’s appearance smart. Such discipline is a habit which promotes grace.

( IV ) THOU SHALT HAVE A PARTING

Americans call the parting in the hair ‘the part’. Frenchmen call it ‘la raie’. Italians call it ‘la riga’. The widespread disappearance of the parting has gone almost unremarked. It should have been the cause of outrage and protest. Why has it gone? Is it the laziness of barbers? A parting requires work to maintain, for it is the making of order where there is inclined to be indiscipline. Its presence now denotes a person who cares about tradition and about propriety.

( V ) THOU SHALT WEAR CUFF-LINKS

A buttoned cuff on a gentleman’s shirt is a miserable, squalid thing, suggestive of the ‘couldn’t care less’ attitude. Cuff-links can be valuable or relatively cheap, but they are essential if a man is to be smartly dressed.

( VI ) THOU SHALT WEAR BRACES

Trousers can only be kept at the correct height by braces. Nothing is more dispiriting than the sight of trousers sagging at the waist and horribly crumpled at the shoe.

( VII ) THOU SHALT NOT WEAR UNPOLISHED SHOES

Unpolished shoes are a disgrace to God and man. This is a truth I learnt from my dear Father. Perhaps this is why I find the polishing of shoes to be positively therapeutic. Requiring concentration and a modest expenditure of energy, but no thought, it enables the mind to rest and find comfort. And the result is truly satisfying. Scuffed, badly-maintained shoes denote laziness and unreliability in the wearer.

( VIII ) THOU SHALT NOT WEAR UNFASTENED CUFF BUTTONS

Every gentleman should have working cuff buttons on his jacket. But to leave any of them un-buttoned – one supposes, to impress the observer with the quality and/or expense of the garment being worn – is unconscionably vulgar. It is sartorial boasting and must not be done.

( IX ) THOU SHALT NOT USE A PORTABLE TELEPHONE IN A PUBLIC PLACE

No device has done more to promote bad manners and the vulgarization of our public spaces than the portable telephone. It has also proved deleterious to the appearance of many a gentleman who might otherwise have looked properly dressed. If a telephone must be carried, it should be carried discreetly and should only be used in an emergency. I confess that I do possess one of these machines: I keep it in the glove box of my motor car, in case the Royce ‘declines to proceed’.

( X ) THOU SHALT NOT CHEW GUM

I am very sorry indeed that this unpleasant subject has to be mentioned. But the chewing of gum has become an epidemic which is disfiguring mankind. It has spread far beyond the confines of the underclass and now infects even some of those who have had the privilege of a decent education. It makes its practitioners appear moronic and it results in the defilement of our pavements. A gentleman who is worthy of the name does not chew gum.

“

Start Quot'Strong young woman

Malala was returning home from school in the north-western Swat district on 9 October when gunmen stopped her vehicle and shot her in the head and the chest.

She received immediate treatment in Pakistan where surgeons removed a bullet which entered just above her left eye and ran along her jaw, grazing her brain.

The teenager was then flown to the UK and was admitted to the QEHB on 15 October to receive specialist treatment.

Over the past few weeks, Malala has been leaving the hospital on home visits to spend time with her father Ziauddin, mother Toorpekai and younger brothers, Khushal and Atul.

The University Hospitals Birmingham NHS Foundation Trust said doctors believe she will continue to make good progress outside the hospital.

The schoolgirl is due to undergo cranial reconstruction surgery in late January or early February.

Dr Dave Rosser, the trust's medical director, said: "Malala is a strong young woman and has worked hard with the people caring for her to make excellent progress in her recovery.

"Following discussions with Malala and her medical team, we decided that she would benefit from being at home with her parents and two brothers.

"She will return to the hospital as an outpatient and our therapies team will continue to work with her at home to supervise her care."

Peace award

Since the shooting, Malala and her father have had threats made against their lives by the Taliban.

Foreign Secretary William Hague tweeted: "Delighted #Malala is well enough to leave hospital.

"The future Pakistan she dreams of is one we must support."

Malala came to prominence when, as an 11-year-old, she wrote a diary for BBC Urdu, giving an account of how her school in Mingora town dealt with the Taliban's 2009 edict to close girls' schools.

Her love for education, and her courage in standing up to the Taliban, made her an icon of bravery and earned her a national peace award in 2011.

The president of Pakistan, Asif Ali Zardari, visited Malala at the hospital on 8 December and assured the family his government would meet the expenses of the treatment.

Mr Yousafzai has been appointed education attache at the Consulate of Pakistan for at least three years.On Wednesday, the Pakistan government announced that Malala's father had been given a job in Birmingham.

The family has received thousands of cards, gifts and messages of support from well-wishers since arriving in the UK.

In a statement in November, her father said the family "deeply feel the heart-touching good wishes of the people across the world of all castes, colour and creed".

He added: "I am awfully thankful to all the peace-loving well-wishers who strongly condemn the assassination attempt on Malala, who pray for her health, and support the grand cause of peace, education, freedom of thought and freedom of expression."

Tens of thousands of people have also signed a petition calling for Malala to receive the Nobel Peace Prize.

West Midlands Police said it continued to work with the hospital and the family "to provide support and liaison as Malala recuperates from her injuries".

The force said it would be inappropriate to comment on the ongoing policing operation.

Wednesday, 2 January 2013

with no fear and a full stomach, I don't care how shite your life appears to be, these children need your help, get off your fat arse & do something, if only ya rattle the tin with a ten-pence piece _

READ ME :

Thousands of children displaced by fighting in and around the city of Goma in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) risk recruitment to armed groups.

Thursday 22 November 2012

Tens of thousands of people have fled Goma as rebels took over the city on Tuesday.

Save the Children staff on ground report that children have been separated from their parents in the rush to escape the rebel advance, and could face recruitment from armed groups operating in the area.

“Any child separated in the rush to flee the fighting is at grave risk of being recruited by any one of several militias in the area,” said Rob MacGillivray, our country director in the DRC.

A team of Save the Children staff is poised to enter Goma as soon as the security situation allows vital humanitarian work to recommence.

As soon as it is safe to do so, we will provide life-saving medicines and health care, eduction and emotional support to children.

We will also distribute key household items to families who may have left their belongings behind when fleeing the violence.

Grave risk

Rob MacGillivray added: “We know that these groups have had few qualms about forcing children to join in the past and have no reason to suppose they will take a different approach now.

"The situation is extremely chaotic, with some families being displaced more than once, and we can only imagine how confused and frightened children caught up in this violence will be.”

Food running out

Save the Children is also deeply concerned that vulnerable families and children are unable to access healthcare and warns that food supplies are quickly running out.

An estimated 400,000 people live in Goma, and the surrounding area is home to another 300,000 displaced people, according to the UN.

Tens of thousands of people have already fled the area, with children particularly vulnerable.

“In any refugee crisis children face a range of risks, including separation from their families, abuse and exploitation, but the long-term insecurity in the eastern DRC means children are in a particularly dangerous situation,” MacGillivray continued.

Children alone

“They may be alone in an area where armed groups often recruit children, have witnessed terrible things, and without basic supplies like food and clean water.

"We call all sides to ensure that children are offered the protection they are owed and that they can be reunited with their families as soon as possible.”

it's time to help your BrotherMan, put your hand where your mouth is !

Tuesday, 1 January 2013

wot happen Pippa..??the silence betrays ya..with an a bootle & glass as hot as your's & a sister in high placesyou don't need to show any respect, your an 'un-equal' citizenbut tell me, how much did the 'get outta jail card' cost..??money don't talk, it fuckin' swears..Happy New Year my dear!

Monday, 31 December 2012

True tequila is made from agave. If a tequila isn't 100% blue agave, then it's supplemented with alcohols and flavors from other sources (usually corn). If you taste a 100% agave tequila, you'll see why tequila was invented: it's fruity and pungent, not harsh.

Like most good liquors (brandy, port, scotch), it benefits from time to develop its flavors. If you leave it for two months to a year, it's "rested" (reposado). Leave it for longer than that, and it's "old" or "aged" (añejo). As with scotch, the longer you let it rest, the more expensive it is.

You can let it rest in glass or steel tanks, which will leave it clear (silver or "blanco", white). Or you can rest it the way they do with whiskey, in charred wood barrels. That gives it other flavors (caramel, vanilla, tannin, pepper, etc. depending on the kind of barrel), and turns it a golden color ("oro").

For cheap tequilas, not made from 100% agave, they make "gold" tequila by adding caramel colorings and flavors, but it bears little resemblance to the properly aged gold tequilas.

If you try the good tequila, you'll find that the cheap stuff is intolerable. A good tequila is every bit as complex and interesting as a good scotch. Unfortunately, it's also about as expensiv

Sunday, 30 December 2012

Shelley at Oxford..out now!

by Heathcote Williams

Although an aristocrat by birth, Shelley became a rebel, a passionate revolutionary, whose life’s purpose was to attack tyranny and injustice in state and society. His career of rebellion began at Oxford, from where he was expelled for atheism at the age of 19. From this crucial starting-point, Heathcote Williams provides us with a new account of Shelley’s message and gives us back the real Shelley, the intellectual revolutionary free of the romantic stereotype. In Shelley at Oxford, we have a raw and incendiary wild-child brought to life in a piece of writing that shows exactly why Shelley is thought of as so scorchingly subversive some two centuries later.

Heathcote Williams is an anarchist, magician, and writer. His unique form of polemical poetry, which questions and challenges established power and authority, is in the great tradition of visionary dissent. In many ways Williams is Shelley’s modern-day heir.that means, they're both rich, privilege fuckers, but don't hold that against 'em!

never trust your betters' otherwise all kinds a mischief could befall ya!

This revolution of 'improvement' helped shape the landscape we accept today as the Scottish countryside. But it also swept aside a traditional way of life, causing immense upheaval and trauma for rural dwellers, many of whom moved to the new towns and cities or emigrated.

Friday, 28 December 2012

2012 was just another year in paradise..here's the the best bit,Tempest ~The pale moon rose in its gloryOut o'er the Western townShe told a sad, sad storyOf the great ship that went downT'was the fourteenth day of AprilOver the waves she rodeSailing into tomorrowTo a gilded age foretoldThe night was black with starlightThe seas were sharp and clearMoving through the shadowsThe promised hour was nearLights were holding steadyGliding over the foamAll the lords and ladiesHeading for their eternal homeThe chandeliers were swayingFrom the balustrades aboveThe orchestra was playingSongs of faded loveThe watchman, he lay dreamingAs the ballroom dancers twirledHe dreamed the Titanic was sinkingInto the underworldLeo took his sketchbookHe was often so inclinedHe closed his eyes and paintedThe scenery in his mindCupid struck his bosomAnd broke it with a snapThe closest woman to himHe fell into her lapHe heard a loud commotionSomething sounded wrongHis inner spirit was sayingThat he couldn't stand here longHe staggered to the quarterdeckNo time now to sleepWater on the quarterdeckAlready three foot deepSmokestack was leaning sidewaysHeavy feet began to poundHe walked into the whirlwindSky splitting all aroundThe ship was going underThe universe had opened wideThe roll was called up yonderThe angels turned asideLights down in the hallwayFlickering dim and dullDead bodies already floatingIn the double bottom hullThe engines then explodedPropellers they failed to startThe boilers overloadedThe ship's bow split apartPassengers were flyingBackward, forward, far and fastThey mumbled, fumbled, and tumbledEach one more weary than the lastThe veil was torn asunder'Tween the hours of twelve and oneNo change, no sudden wonderCould undo what had been doneThe watchman lay there dreamingAt forty-five degreesHe dreamed that the Titanic was sinkingDropping to her kneesWellington he was sleepingHis bed began to slideHis valiant heart was beatingHe pushed the tables asideGlass of shattered crystalLay scattered roundaboutHe strapped on both his pistolsHow long could he hold out?His men and his companionsWere nowhere to be seenIn silence there he waited forTime and space to interveneThe passageway was narrowThere was blackness in the airHe saw every kind of sorrowHeard voices everywhereAlarm-bells were ringingTo hold back the swelling tideFriends and lovers clingingTo each other side by sideMothers and their daughtersDescending down the stairsJumped into the icy watersLove and pity sent their prayersThe rich man, Mister AstorKissed his darling wifeHe had no way of knowingBe the last trip of his lifeCalvin, Blake, and WilsonGambled in the darkNot one of them would ever live toTell the tale or disembarkBrother rose up 'gainst brotherIn every circumstanceThey fought and slaughtered each otherIn a deadly danceThey lowered down the lifeboatsFrom the sinking wreckThere were traitors, there were turncoatsBroken backs and broken necksThe bishop left his cabinTo help all those in needTurned his eyes up to the heavensSaid, "The poor are yours to feed"Davey the brothel-keeperCame out dismissed his girlsSaw the water getting deeperSaw the changing of his worldJim Backus smiledHe never learned to swimSaw the little crippled childAnd he gave his seat to himHe saw the starlight shiningStreaming from the EastDeath was on the rampageBut his heart was now at peaceThey battened down the hatchesBut the hatches wouldn't holdThey drowned upon the staircaseOf brass and polished goldLeo said to CleoI think I'm going madBut he'd lost his mind alreadyWhatever mind he hadHe tried to block the doorwayTo save all those from harmBlood from an open woundPouring down his armPetals fell from flowersTil all of them were goneIn the long and dreadful hoursThe wizard's curse played onThe host was pouring brandyHe was going down slowHe stayed right to the end and heWas the last to go

The watchman, he lay dreamingThe damage had been doneHe dreamed the Titanic was sinkingAnd he tried to tell someoneThe captain, barely breathingKneeling at the wheelAbove him and beneath himFifty thousand tons of steelHe looked over at his compassAnd he gazed into its faceNeedle pointing downwardHe knew he lost the raceIn the dark illuminationHe remembered bygone yearsHe read the Book of RevelationAnd he filled his cup with tearsWhen the Reaper's task had endedSixteen hundred had gone to restThe good, the bad, the rich, the poorThe loveliest and the best

They waited at the landingAnd they tried to understandBut there is no understandingFor the judgment of God's hand

The news came over the wiresAnd struck with deadly forceThe love had lost its firesAll things had run their courseThe watchman he lay dreamingOf all the things that can beHe dreamed the Titanic was sinkingInto the deep blue sea...Bob Dylan _

prologue ~

this was a golden age, a time of high adventure, rich living & hard dying..but nobody thought so...this was a future of fortune and theft, pillage & rapine, culture & vice..but nobody admitted it ..this was an age of extremes , a fascinating century of freaks..but nobody loved it..all the habitable worlds of the solar system were occupied..3 planets & 8 satellites & eleven million million people swarmed in one of the most exciting ages ever known, yet minds yearned for other times, as always, but look around, the ground is warm.. the air is thin and dry..it's always three o'clock in the afternoon, have another beer, the sun rolls down like honey, it's time for a nap before dinner..the silence can kill ya, the border-line is endless, if you come to tread on kings I hear you say, go back to sleep baby, it will wait another day..hahaHa _